family.food.fun

I’ve found myself looking back on old meal plans to get ideas recently, so I thought I would [attempt] to start sharing them again. A lot has changed since I regularly contributed to this blog. We are now a family of six [Praise Him!]. And I definitely can’t fill everyone’s belly for $400 a month anymore. But some things stay the same, too. We still eat most of our meals at home and try our best to make them full of veggies and flavor.

So here’s what I’d planned. I didn’t put days of the week next to any meals because lately we’ve needed that flexibility.

The Faux Pho has been on the menu every week since we had it. It’s a big winner with everyone.

I usually save the Kielbasa Sheet Pan meal for those meals right before grocery day when you need to use up what’s left.

I was able to prep the sheet pan meal while the pho was cooking. It saved a lot of time the next day. I also doubled both recipes so we had leftovers x 2!

I’d intended to do Broccoli Alfredo but there was a sale on drumsticks so we had a deconstructed version of this. I threw the drumsticks and broccoli on separate pans to roast and begged Chuck to whip up a couple boxes of Annie’s Mac and Cheese. No shame! Cohen discovered this Vegan Mac and all our lives are better for it.

I usually have some baked chicken or ground turkey meal prepped at the beginning of the week to throw on salads. When I ran out mid-week I threw some ground beef I needed to use up in a pan. But then dinner came and, after lots of late nights for parent teacher conferences, I realized it would be really easy to change that into some taco meat. So I added black beans, tomatoes, and cheese and we had dinner ready in 10 minutes.

I took the pork that I was going to use for Carnitas and made Butternut & Black Bean Chili. I prepped dried black beans and the pork early in the day [I love you, Instant Pot!] and then when dinner came all I needed to do was pull the pork and add the rest. I even used a bag of frozen butternut squash to make my life easier.

I’m going to tell you a story. It’s kind of long, but I feel unapologetic about that. It starts almost exactly a year ago.

In the beginning of 2016 we decided to try for one more baby. We’d [eventually] come to the agreement that four babes would complete our family. I’d like to think we’d prayed a lot about it and sought wisdom and insight, but it was more of just a feeling. So when we received a positive pregnancy test just after celebrating our 10th anniversary we were elated! I’d never told my mom I was pregnant in person. The first time I’d told her had been more of a shocked, “what have we done!?”, kind of blurting. So, as terrible as I am at keeping secrets, we decided not to tell anyone until after I saw my parents at the end of July.

Everything was pretty normal. At 7 weeks we got a dating ultrasound and saw the baby and its sweet little heartbeat. At 10 weeks my clothes were getting a little snug so I went on a little maternity shopping spree. Everything. Was. Perfect. We celebrated a beautiful 4th of July with our families and basked in that summer glow that’s so easy to find. The next day we walked around Ikea and talked about where we would put a boy or a girl. That night I went to bed early. I wasn’t feeling great but I had an ultrasound scheduled for the next day so I was glad not to worry.

And then I woke up. I was having terrible stomach pains. I thought maybe my appendix had burst! I took a handful of tums hoping it would help but it still hurt. I woke Chuck up and told him I was going to drive myself to the hospital; something was wrong.

I got to the hospital and parked the van. I got out and started walking to the ER entrance; thinking of how quiet it looked in the pre-dawn light. And then something happened. Pain started shooting from my stomach down my legs and blood poured out of me and down my jeans. I walked into the ER covered in blood, losing my resolve.

As I checked myself in, my lower half hidden from the nurse admitting me. I told her I needed help. I needed faster help. Something was wrong. She looked at me with the sweetest eyes and said, “Oh honey, don’t you worry. I bled once when I was pregnant and I had twins!” I dared a glance towards my feet and the blood was creeping down towards my knees.

And that’s when someone finally saw me. They rushed behind me with a wheelchair and wheeled me towards a room. It was too late. Everybody knew that but nobody would say it. They got me into a room and I asked for something to change into. I couldn’t find the strength not to cry anymore; what was the point? She gave me a gown and left so I could change. As I undressed another gush of blood came. It splattered everywhere. It was so messy. I didn’t know it would be so messy. I chided myself for the thought that an ER co-pay was worth not having to clean up this mess. I wondered what I was looking at. Some fluid that could have been clear if it wasn’t tinged with little bits of blood and tissue. Some larger clots of blood. Clots too big. I must have made a noise when everything came out because the nurse came back in.

Her face was worried. And then she told me she had to keep samples of everything. And she scooped all my bits off the floor and lined them up along the counter in little jars. I hated that she did that.

By now it was 6 a.m. and I knew I needed to call Chuck. His mom came over and stayed with the kids so he could come to me. He held my hand while I had contractions that got closer and closer. And then it was done. At least some of it was. My body knew what it needed to do. Something had gone wrong. It was all wrong.

The doctor came in a little later and said, “So I guess you know you lost the pregnancy.”

But here lies the craziest part of the miscarriage experience to me. You have to tell people that you were pregnant and that you lost the baby. Or you just don’t tell people. It’s not even that you’re necessarily ashamed, you just don’t want to open it back up. It hurts.

It hurts all different kinds of hurt. Emotional, obviously. But I didn’t know about the physical hurt.

And people might say that you only think it hurts so much because you’ve only had c-sections. So you don’t know what “it’s” really like. And that will hurt too. And then your doctor will call you in some serious pain relievers and you’ll think she’s overreacting. But she’s not. Your body is on a mission to get everything out quickly. Violently. And, unfortunately for me, after a week of labor pains I still had to have a d&c to finish the process.

The literal worst thing. The worst thing I’d faced. But God was there. I looked back and saw so many ways he’d quietly been preparing me for that week. Like a huge grocery sale at the Target by our house where we completely stocked our deep freeze. Or the fact that Chuck had only just finished summer school the week before, giving me the whole summer to heal. He knew. He cared. He cares for us.

That baby was 11 weeks when we lost it. It would have been born on January 17th. We mourned it. But we trusted God. We weren’t sure if we would try again. Maybe our family was complete with three babies entrusted to us on Earth and one in Heaven above. I felt a renewed stirring in my heart for this mission of motherhood. Feeling so incredibly thankful for the three amazing kids I get to spend my days with. To see a pregnancy go so wrong made me so thankful for the miracle of the three I’d had.

So summer turned to fall and we wondered still if we should try again. We prayed and prayed. And there was no answer. In the past I would have pressed Him for an answer. I would have wondered why He was forsaking me when I called out to Him. But I couldn’t ignore the peace I had. And then one day, I felt like my answer came. I realized that I had to give it up. All of me wanted an assurance from Him. For Him to tell me that wasn’t going to happen again! That He wanted me to have what I wanted! But we can’t pray that way. We can’t put conditions on God. We can’t ask for His will our way. So I humbly prayed for forgiveness. That I still have so much to learn about grieving well. So much to learn about trusting and following. About not interjecting myself in what He has for me. I stepped back, held up my hands, and said, “I don’t care! I don’t care what happens to me, I only want what you have for me. Good or bad. Easy or hard. Just You and Yours.” And I felt the stirring that said it was okay to try again.

And we did. And we got to experience the same elation and joy to think we would add another member to our family. I looked at the dates and realized I would be exactly 11 weeks to the day on the date that our first baby would have been born. There are no coincidences with God, I thought. This is a sign that everything would be okay.

But it wasn’t okay. This time we only made it as far as the dating ultrasound. There wasn’t a heartbeat where there should have been. I decided to wait and let things happen naturally. It took a long time. A long time of still feeling pregnant. Blood work numbers still rising, knowing that the chances of a viable pregnancy were slim. And, eventually, my body was ready. On January 17th, the day our first miscarriage would have been born, we lost for a second time.

I knew what to expect this time. And had less of everything to pass. But it still hurt. And it was still hard. And my heart still ached in the confusion of it all. Why did it have to be that day, I wondered.

But I felt fresh hope through this loss, too. I looked back to the previous summer and saw how many other ways we’d been protected. We went eight months without a single illness in our family. Not so much as a cold while it seemed like our friends were fighting off plagues. There are no coincidences with God. He’s faithful. He’s just. He gives. He takes away. There’s beauty in all of that. There’s peace and comfort in his protecting hand. There’s hope that He knows all, knows what’s best, knew that would happen and knew what you would need.

I told you this was a long story. I’m really not even sure why I decided it was time to tell it. I’m just letting my heart speak.

And that brings us to this week. It should be the worst week. We met with the doctor after the second loss and she said there was no reason or explanation. That it was unusual to have three “normal” pregnancies and then experience this. So we tried again.

And we lost again.

This week seemed to be the culmination of our hopes, dashed. I know that sounds dramatic. We put our house on the market two weeks ago and the realtor said to expect multiple offers the first weekend. And they didn’t come. If you look at the stats on our listing, they look great! There are realtors sharing it with their clients on the MLS. There are three times as many people looking at our listing over any listing within a mile of our house. But no one’s biting. And that should worry me. But it’s not a coincidence.

My doctor said she’s never had someone like me. Someone with three healthy pregnancies to go on to have three different types of miscarriages in a row. That’s right, they’ve all been different. There can’t be one reason because they’ve all had different causes. But it’s not a coincidence.

And then we came to today. Sorry, my youngest love, but what made you so angry today was the easiest disappointment I faced all week. A failed food challenge for the one that was supposed to be a sure bet. His little heart crushed, his hopes deflated. But it’s not a coincidence.

Instead, it feels like opportunity. Opportunity for God to show all that He is. He is so good. He cares about everything that happened to me this week. This year! He knows it all. He knew it all when the world began. How else can we survive living in this world without the faith that He has plans. That he’s in control. How else could we face weeks where it feels like everything is lining up to try to get me to throw my hands up and scream at the Heavens. To give up and break down.

But instead I opened my Bible. Not seeking out a specific verse, but to make sure I get the reading in for the day. One of those read the Bible in a year plans. And Ecclesiastes 8 came up.

Who is like the wise?Who knows the explanation of things?A person’s wisdom brightens their faceand changes its hard appearance.

—

Whoever obeys his command will come to no harm,and the wise heart will know the proper time and procedure.6 For there is a proper time and procedure for every matter,though a person may be weighed down by misery.

7 Since no one knows the future,who can tell someone else what is to come?8 As no one has power over the wind to contain it,so[a] no one has power over the time of their death.As no one is discharged in time of war,so wickedness will not release those who practice it.

So what are we left with? The hope that there’s a season for everything. That He is working and I can grow through this season. If I let it wash over me, He will be there to make sure I don’t go under. I’m sad. And my heart hurts. But I can invite him into those places. New places. More space for Him. More letting go of everything I thought I needed and trusting in what He has for me. That’s hard. But it’s a good kind of hard.

My daughter and I were driving in the car today and mentioning friends we were going to see. She said, “I just love having so many brown-skinned friends.” And, I don’t know, race is a touchy subject… right? Just when I feel informed and sensitive enough to sort of understand it, I realize I still have a lot to learn.

We live in a very diverse area. We value diversity. But we don’t want to raise “color-blind” kids. To me, raising color-blind kids means you tell them not to see color. That it doesn’t make a difference what color someone is – you treat them all the same.

So maybe you’ve seen this meme before. It’s been around for a while and its iterations are endless. If we teach our kids to treat everyone equally, they’re going to be very confused and ill-prepared to understand injustices. What if instead of teaching them not to see color, we teach them to value color. We teach them the depth and beauty of differences.

We need to teach our kids the difference between equality and equity. To raise informed people who are interested in pursing a world liberated from the pursuit of “greatness, no matter the cost”. Liberated from the idea that the privledges they were born with shouldn’t be extended to everyone.

Disclaimer: this is the first try at making some on-the-go bars for Cohen. I may come back and edit the recipe as needed.

It’s been a *bit* of a rough month for the youngest of the Baker bunch. He keeps adding new allergies and we keep finding out “the hard way”. We’ve also found that his sensitivity to food proteins is increasing after a scary run-in with some contact reactions.

The worst part is, he’s now allergic to his very favorite, allergen-friendly food bars. In an effort to make him something he loves just as much, and to make them more nutrient-rich, I came up with these:

Start by chopping 1 cup of dates and putting them in a glass jar. Pour boiling water over to just cover the dates. Let sit until cool and then refrigerate for 12 hours.

Preheat oven to 350F. Add all ingredients to food processor. Blend until smooth.

Here’s where it gets a little iffy. I tried to spread the batter in a 9×13 pan this time but it was hard to get the center done as well as I wanted before the edges were done. Next time I think I’ll try a smaller pan. I baked this set for 20 minutes and the consistency was nice. They cut up well and stayed formed when I wrapped them individually.

I’ve dropped the ball “a bit” on sharing meal plans here. They’re still happening. They’re usually scribbled by necessity on the corner of a piece of paper discarded by the children, right before I leave for the grocery store.

I started out with a pretty intense list, we didn’t get to everything, but I will show you what we did!

Daddy reading the Magic School Bus ocean book before bed.

One thing we wanted to add more of was physical activity. So we made sure we were either playing outside or going on bike rides every day [I promise we aren’t in pajamas all the time. :) If it’s not too hot at night we put everyone in pajamas and take a lap around the neighborhood].

I also worked more towards understanding her best learning style and we discovered she really enjoys listening to… everything! So we got some books on cd from the library and made sure we set aside time to listen to our Phonics Museum phonics cd.

We introduced the Montessori bead stair because she’s working on her 5-9 doubles for math and the higher numbers are a little trickier!

I knew we were on the right track for making school more fun this week when little brothers wanted to join in.

Math doubles practice with a twenty chart and gems.

Practicing our hundreds chart outside.

She fished for the animal and then found the matching cards. She enjoyed this but wished there weren’t so many animals with ‘s’ names. Hehe.

We found this Lakeshore Subtraction Center at the thrift store and it was perfect for the theme! It would be easy enough to recreate.

She worked with these tweezers while I read some ocean facts from the Usborne First Encyclopedia of Animals.

This game was a big winner. She spelled the word and then rang the bell. I’ve now decided every homeschool needs a bell.

Exploring shells with a magnifying glass. She loved this.

I loved how she thought of which animals like both land and water and put them closer to the line.

I showed her the picture and said the word and she found the corresponding beginning letter. And then rang the bell. ;)

Homeschooling is hard. I thought I knew what I was getting into since we did our “soft launch” in March. I was not prepared.

I detailed out our plans in the last post. And we stuck to them for the first week. I made a schedule board on the side of the fridge for my gal who loves to ask, “What’s next?”. We fell into a routine of starting our Bible as everyone was finishing up breakfast. We then transitioned to Saxon Math because it has a Morning Meeting and calendar time built into it. We then did our Explode the Code work. Followed by Handwriting without Tears and Phonics Museum. And then we did the subject of the day, either reading a book together, doing a science project, or going for a nature walk.

It all lined up perfectly with what my student told me she wanted before the school year began. It was just a little flat. As flat as the worksheets we were completing. There was way more “seatwork” than I wanted and towards the end of the week Lucy was complaining that looking at all the words were “hurting her brain”.

We still had fun together, but I went into the second week ready to transition to something that looked a little more like interest-led unit studies vs. traditional schooling.

Our first week of homeschool co-op went well. It gets a little dicey at the end when baby’s ready for a nap.

Lots of playing, inside and out.

Science is her favorite subject so we broke out the science kit a few times.

Typical first week of school shenanigans.

As soon as the crayons and markers come out, the boys are ready to join in!

So I decided that one of the biggest assets of homeschool is changing everything up until you settle into what fits right. So change we did.

I think the only reason I’m writing this post is because of the joy I get from reading other people’s. Weird?

We’re cheating a little because we technically started at the end of February and took a summer break. But it makes me more confident in making this list because we know these are the things that work. And we understand a little better what kind of learner we’ve got on our hands.

We have been easing into the idea of school at home with Lu. When we started in February it looked something like 25% me reading aloud to her, 15% sitting down to do traditional school work, and 60% art and free play. It worked gloriously but we do want to start adding a little structure [because she craves a schedule] and some more subjects than the math and history we used at the end of last year.

So before we jump in with both feet this year, I gave my gal a little survey to see what she liked most and least last year:

Reading:
+ Blending Words
– Sentences

Math:
+ Counting to 100
– Remembering Big Numbers

Science:
+ Every Part
– Nothing

History:
+ Hearing Stuff / Coloring Pages
– Nothing

Handwriting:
+ Worksheets
– Nothing

Favorite things? Blocks and Building Things.
Things that were hard? No.

So here’s what we’re using this year:

Continuing with Saxon Math 1. We are about 30 lessons in and Lucy is loving it. As the survey suggests, one of her favorite parts is the hundreds chart. She loves to do it forward, backward, and while “teaching” her brothers. I like the pace of this book for her. She is challenged but it’s slow enough and builds on itself enough that she isn’t flustered.

Since our style is Charlotte Mason / Montessori / Classical / Hands-on / Student-led [hehehe] we are doing a Nature Study this year. We’ll mostly be walking around our neighborhood and a couple of nature centers that are close by.

She did ask to do more science so we’ll be doing one day a week of reading together and one day of experimenting.

For the Bible this year, we are moving past the Jesus Storybook Bible, which we love but have read through a bunch, with something a little meatier. I also grabbed a couple sticker and coloring books from Dollar Tree for her to work on while I read aloud.

Reading has been a bit of a blemish on the otherwise great time we’ve been having together. We’ve tried a few of the different “Teach your kid in 100 lessons” style books and we both end up frustrated. So we’re relaxing in this subject for a while. We’re doing moveable alphabet work and the Explode the Code books. We’re also going to start the Phonics Museum [not pictured] program, which seems slower paced.

For History and Geography we’ll continue reading and doing coloring sheets from Story of the World. We’re going to work on map skills this year as well so I made this map puzzle from this pattern and we’ll do some of the activities from the books.

We will also continue our Magic Tree House real-alouds and mapping. I can hardly believe we’ve read almost 30 books together! They have been so fun!

We are going to continue Handwriting Without Tears and as much hands-on work as we can fit in. She loves these.

To keep everything organized, we have a weekly work folder where I can have worksheets ready to go. There’s nothing worse than sitting down to work and realizing you forgot to print something.

And, as requested, we’ll be doing tons of building with our wood blocks, legos, tinker boxes, and manipulatives.

I asked Lucy if she would rather do her school right after breakfast or while Landon is at school and Cohen is sleeping and she chose the morning. So our days will look something like this:

I quit Facebook a couple months ago. Shut down the account, the whole thing. I didn’t announce it; I just sort of backed out- exhausted by the veil it provided for people to say offensive things they’d never dream of saying in real life. It was glorious. I couldn’t believe how much time I recouped. My house was so clean!

But I ran into a couple of hitches. One being that most of the people within my immediate social circle use it to share exciting life events and I was missing “stuff” I didn’t want to. Another issue came when I went to log into things I’d previously signed up for using that super handy ‘Sign In With Facebook’ button and I couldn’t log in. [That Mark Z is a real trickster…] So I put my page back up. I told myself I’d check it once a day. It was fine.

And then today I see this little gem run across my feed:

I ate peanuts on a plane today and nobody died.

Hilarious. Right? It’s not the first thing I’ve come across to joke at an allergy-sufferers expense. It wasn’t really surprising and only a little upsetting. Mostly it’s just insensitive, I think. There have been memes suggesting food allergies are merely a form of natural selection. Hilarious. There have been giggles about really obvious food allergy labeling [like peanut butter saying in bold it contains peanuts]. Hilar. Waitstaff rants about catering to allergy divas. Hardy har. Everyone probably has some thing they’re sensitive to that others are more flippant about. At first I spoke up. I wanted to educate them. “Some people have airborne food allergies. That really could have killed them.” “Do you know how helpful detailed food labels are when you have to read the food label on every item you buy, every time you buy it (even if you’ve bought it thousands of times before!) to make sure it’s free from six different allergens.” “Sorry? We don’t eat out much because it’s really not convenient for us, either.”

I guess that’s why I quit Facebook. Why get mad or upset about something said by someone you really aren’t even friends with? I don’t feel like there are people in my everyday life who are flippant about my kids’ food allergies. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. It’s friends keeping sunbutter on hand in case we come over. Changing their lunch menu to look like ours so my kids aren’t left out. My mom stocking her pantry full of my kids’ favorite [and expensive] allergen-free food before we visit. My sister-in-law having an allergen-free brownie sundae bar just for my kids at her son’s birthday! We are wrapped in love by friends who are willing to be educated and inclusive about food allergies.

So that’s what I remind myself of when someone wants to make a hilarious joke about food allergies. Maybe they’ll have someone in their lives they deeply care about one day who can show them what food allergies really look like. Maybe they’ll read this and decide 12 likes on their status isn’t really worth a joke about something so serious.

For now I’ll leave them with this:

I have a daughter. She’ll tell you she’s five. That she’ll be six in five months. And that she’s our “#1 kid” [our firstborn. hehe.]. In that order. Immediately upon making your acquaintance. We found out when she was very young that she had food allergies. We found out because she had weeping sores all over her legs that no amount of steroids would heal. She’s allergic to eggs, peanuts, milk, and wheat. And not just a little allergic. Eggs and peanuts can send her into anaphylactic shock. Yes, that’s something you learn the hard way. She need only eat trace amounts of eggs to begin vomiting with facial swelling and compromised breathing. Her body will cover itself in hives that arc all the way to the lymph nodes under her arms. It’s scary.

She has a brother. He’s only 19 months old. He’s a baby. He also has food allergies. And we keep finding more. At first it was the same issue. Eczema that we couldn’t heal. We had him tested and found out he was allergic to peanuts. Six months later, he ate some adorable cheddar bunnies and his face began to swell and raised hives spread all over his body. We had him tested again and found he’d developed an allergy to milk. No, I don’t know how food allergies develop either. No, neither my husband nor myself have food allergies. Six months later we were enjoying a dinner with our family on vacation when he had a tiny bit of hummus and his face began to swell. He started swaying when he tried to walk. It took Benedryl, two Epi-pens, a trip to the emergency room, and an adult-sized dose of oral steroids to stop the allergic reaction. A third round of allergy testing revealed he’s now allergic to eggs, peanuts, sesame seeds, almonds, and milk. At least that we know of. He’s just a baby.

So maybe I am a little angry tonight. Mostly I’m just sad for my kids. But to all those jokesters who think it’s hilarious to make light of food allergies, here’s my baby: